What I think about when I'm running: Parks

I went running today. Not my usual habit, but then January is the month of earnest goal setting isn't it? I set out from Haggerston along Regent's canal, passing Broadway Market, and continuing all the way until Victoria Park or Vicky Park, as it is affectionately known to locals. I say 'all the way', but the whole journey only took 15 minutes.

For those of you unfamiliar with this part of the world, the Park is a whopping great dish of green space (and much else) that appears to divide what I consider to be the exciting bit of East London from the drab bit of East London (e.g. Bow). Such is its size, the Park contains something for everyone: a lake for geese and swans, a lido for the kiddies, cycling paths for cyclists and skaters, walkways for all other bipeds, enough of an assortment of trees and shrubs to keep a botanist happy for an afternoon, some remaining bits of the original London Bridge for history buffs, and a Chinese pagoda for good measure.

In between thoughts of reminding myself to run on the balls of my feet (being a heel-striking thumper is BAD for you) and how blessed we are to have some sun this lunch hour, I was struck by a surge of appreciation for the Grandmother of Europe herself. Victoria Park joined the rest of London's Royal Parks in 1854 to give the hoi polloi somewhere nice to hang out when they weren't toiling within the veins of the industrial Empire. Inasmuch as the odds still stack up in favour of the haves in London, parks like Vicky remain a consolation prize that is hard to disdain. I guess it's no accident that the park's other nickname is The People's Park. I can't think of another 'world city' that rivals London on this count. Nor for a good run.